Blood Brides
by Diamonds and Bones
Summary: Jazz and Prowl are Polyhexian detectives and work for SVU. After one strange murder case, the two realize that not everything is as it seems and it all leads to Praxus. If they uncover this case, they will unravel a city's most darkest secret. One so bad that it could destroy an entire city's lifestyle and make everything they knew about Praxus a myth.
1. Chapter 1

At 7:12 AM, a body emerged from the dark recesses in the northeast side of Solumus Prime Swamp. The victim's head was only visible from the mud covered greenery; the right cranium bashed in leaving an erie canal indent that extended all of the way to the otic socket and the face was morphed into a wide eyed, open mouthed expression of fear.

At 7:15 AM, two younglings found their missing soccer ball next to the dead body and at 7:30 AM, SVU, Special Victims Unit, received a 911 call about a murder.

Jazz reviewed the facts and pictures in the report he had received as he walked toward the crime scene.

The greenery clung to him, bugs buzzed, and the mud stuck to his newly polished pedes.

The once beautiful Swamps of Solomus Prime had been cast aside and laid in ruins; basically like all of Polyhex, his hometown. It didn't make the swamp any prettier now that it was covered in yellow police tape marked: CRIME SCENE DO NOT TRESPASS and trampled over by many of the members of SVU. He pushed up the yellow tape and entered a flurry of police officers.

The entire SVU station swarmed the vicinity along with forensics, police officers, specialists, and detectives. All were either taking photos of the crime scene, collecting data, and Primus knows what else.

Jazz flashed his badge. "Detective Jazz from SVU. Where's the body?"

A young looking police officer pointed to a small group standing by the edge of the swamp. "Over there, Detective Jazz." His face was pale. "It's bad, sir. I couldn't believe what I saw."

A forensics who was taking samples of the greenery two feet away said harshly, "Now the Praxians have more reasons to say their city is the best. With this crime case, will look as bad as Kaon."

Jazz's stomach clenched and he suddenly felt a small tendril of concern. Mainly at the news of the vic as well as Praxus. Praxus was a city that bordered Polyhex. It was divided solely by this exact swamp. Everyone hated the Praxians because of their superiority complex, especially Polyhexians. But they did have reason to gloat. According to last reports, Praxus had a 0.1% crime rate. Jazz walked toward the direction intended. He really regretted drinking his morning energon

"Is that the vic, Ratch?" Jazz asked as he approached the group, which was composed of Ratchet and Prowl, his partner. Of course, Prowl would come early. From the thoughtful look on his face, he had been here for a while. He knew better than to disturb him, so he didn't even acknowledge his partner.

He looked down. The vic was lying on the ground, white sheet on top of him. Ratchet, the medical examiner, was looking underneath the sheet, inspecting for injuries. Jazz felt more dread. Ratchet, throughout his entire career working alongside Jazz, had always called him out for his nicknames.

"Yeah," gruffed Ratchet, his mouth in a tight line. He removed the sheet. "Vic was freshly killed."

Jazz steeled himself as he stared at the dead body. The vic was a mech. Naked. The protoform was deathly pale, but not decomposed at all. The side of his face was practically gone from the death blow, almost unrecognizable, and the body was a disaster of holes and ragged scars.

"Fragger who did this literally sewed rocks into his stomach," Ratchet said, pointing at the numerous gashes that littered his body. "Either he failed sewing school or was in a hurry, fortunately, for us the stitches didn't take. That is probably the only reason we actually recovered the body in the first place."

Jazz closed his eyes, before he took a breath. "Do you know the time of death?" He asked.

"7:00 AM. Exact time, too." He grabbed the arm that had a watch on. It was vintage. The words, R.S. engraved. "Whoever did this hit him with a heavy object. The victim had tried to defend himself." Ratchet put a hand over his head to stimulate it. "When the murderer let loose the weapon one last time. The arm was shattered and then his skull. The blow literally made the watch stop. That's how I knew the body was fresh."

Jazz shook his head as he assessed the facts. "I don't understand… why where we called? Is this a rape case? Our John Doe seems like he's fit for the homicide department?"

Prowl suddenly shook his head, breaking from his thoughts. "The weapon wasn't what killed him. The vic died from toxic shock syndrome-"

"But he was a mech! Don't femmes get that?" Jazz interrupted, completely confused. Toxic shock syndrome, for as long as he knew, was a result of a retained tampon.

"Not exactly. It's a bacterial infection which can affect anybody. The strange thing about this was that it was the repetitive brutal rape that caused it," Ratchet gruffed. "And this isn't a common rape case." He flipped the body over and to Jazz's horror he saw tattooed on his back a bar code.

"What the-" But before Jazz could finish, a loud voice interrupted him.

"More yourself immediately or you will be arrested for interfering with a Praxian crime scene!"Jazz turned around and a doppleganger of Prowl, except whereas Prowl had blue optics the oher mech had red. The newcomer was quickly followed along by numerous other praxian officers who emerged from the greenery. "The names Barricade. Chief officer of Praxian Homicide Department and I have been assigned by your police department to take over the case."


	2. Chapter 2

TWO WEEKS LATER

The 37 Who Saw Murder And Didn't Call the Police Occurred Because of a Theory Called "The Bystander Effect"

Written by Rong of the Pious Pools

For more than half of an hour, 27 respectable, law abiding citizens in Polyhex watched a killer stalk and stab a femme in three separate attacks in Kew Gardens.

Twice the sound of their voices and the sudden glow of their bedroom lights interrupted the perpetrator and frightened him off. Yet, each time he returned, he sought her out and stabbed her again. Not one person telephoned the police during the assault and only one witness called after the woman was dead.

How could this occur? New psychological evidence hints at a theory called the bystander effect. The bystander effect is a social phenomenon occurring in emergencies, in which individuals do not offer any means to help the victim. Studies indicate that individuals are less likely to help in fear to discourage the group.

This theory must be further explored to avoid future tragedies and, hopefully, prevent unnecessary deaths and crimes such as these...

Bumblebee of Iacon: Still Missing

The two month case has led to nothing more than a wild goose chase. Bumblebee, who was last seen being picked up in a white SUV on Kev Road has turned up no clues to his disappearance. His parents, Optimus Prime and Elita 1, still have faith in their son return and they, "Will not stop until he is back home where he belongs."

Bumblebee has yellow armor-

"JAZZ!"

Jazz almost dropped the newspaper he was reading as he heard Prowl storming through the building of the police station to his cubicle. Jazz turned around and saw Prowl's mouth pressed in a tight thin line and his hands pumping back and forth, speedwalking. Jazz knew he would've been running, except, it was forbidden to run in the building, unless for emergencies. From Prowl's posture, Jazz assumed that his quiet time at the police station would end abruptly.

Prowl snatched the newspaper and furiously flipped through the pages before he handed it back.

"Read it!" Prowl hissed.

Jazz looked down and saw the head title

Praxus Improves Their Suicide Programs After Tragic Incident

"What about it Prowla?" Asked Jazz. He skimmed the page and his eyes zoomed on a photo. "Wait, a minute is that… is that the vic?"

On the picture, there was the vic. He didn't have any injuries. He was smiling happily. Doorwings raised in the air in jubilation.

"Wait, tha' mech was a praxian. Where were the wings?"

"Assumely ripped off. We probably didn't notice because of all the injuries." Prowl murmured.

Jazz made a strangled noise in surprise. He scanned the page, before Prowl summarized the article.

"They blamed it all on a suicide! Can you believe it! You saw the vic! He was hit and then had rocks sown into him. They blamed drugs and guess what they used to excuse all the damage on him? They claimed he was and I quote 'depressed enough to commit all of the bodily damage without feeling any pain.'"

"Tha's insane," gasped Jazz. "What about the barcode? That's not a common civilian tattoo!"

"Barcode!" Prowl bellowed. "They never even mentioned it! This isn't normal, Jazz. Nothing is!"

Jazz looked at the page, quizzically. A question suddenly popped up in his head. "Wait a minute! Why would they do this? Are they hiding something. What did he do?"

Prowl chuckled, darkly. "I think the problem is much more closer to home. In fact, vic, or shall I call, Waspinator was not only a citizen, but married, too. And guess to whom?"

Jazz cocked his head, waiting, before he burst from the suspense. "Who mech, don't leave me hanging?"

"Barricade."

The two shared a look. "You thinkin' what I'm thinkin'," Jazz finally asked.

"An angry cop kills his married and then uses his influence to cover up the scene."

Jazz rubbed his temples. "Jeez, mech. Tha's crazy if it's true. I mean we're talking about Praxus not Kaon. Who would believe us? And even if they did… what can we do? They closed the case. The only way we could open it is if we find new evidence. And if we think Barricade has as much power and influence to manipulate an entire police force to cover up for him then he definitely erased all the information in Praxus. I mean he's a cop, ya dig?"

Prowl didn't reply causing Jazz to look up. His eyes zoomed onto something Prowl was holding in his hand. Slowly, he revealed a broken, yet familiar watch. "Well for starters, we could trace down the victim's watch to the store. After all, the victim did buy it in Polyhex."

Jazz gaped, before he suddenly cracked a grin and burst a smile. "I knew you'd come to the darkside! What's next on our 'let's break the rules agenda.' We illegally going to investigate without our police force knowing?"

Prowl nodded. "I'm afraid so. If our force caught wind of this they would certainly fear retribution from Praxus, especially with the limited information we have to convict… So are you in or not?"

"Course I am, mech!" Jazz rose. "Not let's light a fire under those Praxian's pompous afts!"

The store they eventually arrived to was extremely run down and in one of the slums of polyhex. On the dusty brick stone store hung a sign which said, "Swindle's Goods and Accessories." Around the tiny store was a gate. It's doors were open, however, a sign hung a sign which said. "Homeless people stay out or I'll sue you!" Underneath it said, "And that means you, Drift!"

"Huh," Jazz said as he transformed. "I guess are little friend had a rough start in life."

"Or enjoyed a little excitement," said Prowl. "Let's go."

The two entered the store and grimaced at the smell. Junk filled the shelves to the point where it looked cluttered. Terrible elevator music played. Jazz opened a door and a little bell chimed. A small mech who was counting money, suddenly slammed the money in a safe box and grabbed a gun.

The two cops on reflex pulled out their weapons.

"Tell Motormaster that I owe him nothing! I didn't know that engine didn't work!" Yelled the small mech. The gun trembled in his hand as he stared at them, trying to appear aggressive.

Motormaster? The two cops cocked an optic, before they raised their hands in surrender.

"Cool your engines, mech! We don' wan' yo money. We're police. We wanna' ask some questions about a missing mech!"

"Police!" The mech managed a laugh and dropped the gun. "Primus, I love the police!"

The mech went toward them and extended a hand. "The names Swindle! Humble owner of this small abode! So sorry about that, you know how people are here. They're crazy! How about I gave you 5% off of these products," he motioned to a small area of different assortments of junk. "And forget about all that!"

"Thanks, mech. Appreciate it. However, it would be nice if you remembered this."

Prowl revealed the watch and handed it to Swindle. Swindle's eyes popped open. "Of course, I do. I never forget a purchase! Looks a little broken! What happened? Was the mech murdered with this?"

"Precisely."

Swindle gulped before he handed it to Prowl. "Primus. So, um, it's serious officers..."

"Checkpoint," Jazz pointed to Prowl. "And Ricochet," he motioned to himself. Prowl wasn't even shocked by Jazz's fib. After all, it had been their undercover names when they were busting drug related crimanals. Additionally, it would help if Swindle decided to call the station. No one except the higher ups, knew about those names, making it less easy for discovery. However, considering the mech they were dealing with, the chances were slim if he wanted to call the police station.

The cops nodded, before Prowl handed him the newspaper article with the vic. "Is this the person you sold the watch to?"

Swindle squinted, hard. Before, he looked up. "Nah, he wasn't Praxian."

The two cops glanced at each other, before Prowl shoved the photo in his face. "Are you positive? The watch you sold him was very expensive. Definetly, 20 times more expensive than anything you sell at the store! Something you would not forget."

Swindle glanced again, before his optics lightened. "Hey, look at that. He has that same birthmark on his neck." He grabbed it and scratched his neck. "That's strange that's definitely him. He's just got a makeover."

"A makeover? What do you mean?" The two cops were flabbergasted. This was definitely new.

"Ah, you know. I've dealt with these people," Swindle said. "That mech wasn't black and white. Nah, he was yellow and green. He also definitely had these stingers, not servos. That guy must've wanted to disappear. I don't know why, he seemed so happy when he saw me."

Jazz leaned on the table to appear casual. "What'ya mean, mech? What was he talkin' about?"

Swindle smiled. "Real nice. Broke my heart kinda. I think he came a month ago. It was nice to see someone so happy after that freak flood we had!" Prowl raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. "...Anyways, my store was drenched! Anyways, he was excited about this mech he met. Well not met. Apparently, he decided to be a mail order bride, you know how popular that's becoming, and some really rich mech was interested. He was super stoked-"

"You know what this bride service was called?" Interrupted Prowl.

Swindle nodded. "I even have a brochure." He went behind the desk. "I asked him because, you know, I was thinking about getting a bride for myself. Femmes are really hard to get."

Swindle handed a booklet to them and they flipped open the first page. The brochure said, The Haven and had a phone number.

"See," Swindle pointed. "That's him."

The mech had the same color scheme Swindle had said and was smiling. Strangely, there was no name, just a series of numbers... like the barcode. Jazz suddenly gasped as he saw the picture, before he regained his composure. Prowl noticed, especially when Jazz strangely grabbed Prowl's arm.

"Thanks for yer time, mech. I appreciate it." Jazz said smoothly.

"No sweat, hey can I keep the watch. With a little polish, I can sell that baby-" however, the two cops had already left.

"What are you doing, Jazz!" Prowl hissed as Jazz sped away. Prowl followed after him. He finally stopped when they were miles away.

"Can you _please_ explain your behavior, Jazz!" hissed Prowl, when he finally transformed.

Jazz grabbed Prowl's arm and stared at him, incredulously. "Prowl, that mech lied!" He grabbed the brochure. "I know this mech!"

"How?" Hissed Prowl. "

Jazz grabbed Prowl, pulling him close to him. "His name's Wasp! He's missing. He was on _Chess_!"

"What does this have to do with a board game?!"

Jazz shook his head. "Far from it, my mech. We've been trying to shut it down for years. It's an illegal porn site where they torture their victims… sometimes to death!"

As soon as the cops had left, Swindle closed the shop, grabbed the phone, and dialed a number.

Thirty minutes later someone answered.

"How could you be so STUPID!" Swindle hissed into the phone. "You had one job and you blew it! Why would you leave the watch on the stupid person!"

A voice could be heard on the phone, loud and anxious. "I'm talking about the cops idiot! They came to my store and _questioned me_!"

Swindle listened to the phone. "Please calm down! I don't know who they were! I think they made up their names, huh… what? Do you know how expensive security cameras are? Don't worry, pal, you'll see them when you go collect your new brides."

The speaker on the phone had a questioning voice. Swindle suddenly grinned. "Relax, my mech. Since you brought this mess upon me, not only bringing cops to my doorstep, but definitely scaring off my customers- hey excuse me, if some people don't like cops- I thought it was fair if you paid me for your new brides… You know after the loss of that other bride."

Swindle grabbed a calculator and started making sums. "Imagine it, you would be the first with two ex-cop brides, or whatever you call them. Trust me, it'll work. These cops are obviously doing this alone. They'll definitely call in for that brochure. You call them over with a fake lead about that Waspinator guy and just… you know round 'em up! And then you can talk to that guy and he'll make it look like they never existed! It'll be phenomenal!"

Swindle's eyes practically glowed with credit signs.

"Good. Nice talking to you. Wire me the cash like always." Swindle went to put down the phone when suddenly he grabbed it. "Hey, now that I think of it, one of the cops had door wings. They were definitely not surgically placed on. It looked like he was Praxian born. Is he one of yours?"

Swindle listened before he put down the phone.

"Where in the pits did he come from?"


End file.
